


the sistine chapel ceiling on your arm

by montecarlos



Series: tattoo au [1]
Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: Jorge hums. “I guess. And it’s not like you recreated the Sistine Chapel ceiling on his arm like Vale did-”“It's the Notre Dame actually,”Jorge’s grin grows even wider, his eyebrow almost hitting his hairline. “Looks like Mack has got a crush,” He all but sing-songs.
Relationships: Fabio Quartararo/Maverick Viñales, Jorge Lorenzo/Dani Pedrosa, Marc Marquez/Valentino Rossi, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: tattoo au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914322
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	the sistine chapel ceiling on your arm

**Author's Note:**

> I literally knocked this out in like two days, it's been an idea that's been floating around for a while and I honestly thought I had it in me to actually get something down that I could finish, but here we are. I've felt really creative these last few days and I'm really happy that I can write freely and to make the most of my lockdown experience. The title is my own. Thank you to D + C for the advice, and to whoever reads this, it means alot. 
> 
> But the biggest thank you is to J for the support and for the initial idea, as it is her sandbox and I can only hope that I did it justice.

Maverick barely has time to roll his eyes when he hears the bell above the door chime out through the silence. He’s all alone - Jorge is running late, code for he’s probably still having sex with Dani - and Valentino is on his honeymoon with Marc. Maverick had glanced enviously at the photos on his facebook feed this morning of the happy couple cuddled together in their Italian retreat, half naked. None of his own clients are due for another half an hour but he’s trying to trace out a design for one of his afternoon sessions. He throws down the pencil on top of the tracing paper, sighing heavily under his breath as he enters the reception area.

  
His mouth drops open. It’s _Fabio_. Fabio with the almost-full half sleeve, Fabio who is practically Valentino’s walking portfolio. Maverick can hardly blame him. Valentino is the _best,_ Maverick wears the lion tattoo that the older man gave him a few months ago as an initiation tattoo slash badge of pride and even Jorge, who has known Valentino for years and wears a large volume of Valentino’s artwork on his body, would begrudgingly admit that his colleague is the best.  
  
“Good morning,” Fabio chirps.  
  
Maverick takes in the sight of the younger man. His hair is slightly tousled, as though he’s just rolled out of bed. Valentino’s artwork curling all over his right arm, the ink stark black against his pale skin-  
  
“Am I a bit early?” Fabio cuts through the silence.  
  
Maverick blinks once. “For what?”  
  
Fabio laughs. “For my appointment,” He shows off the gap in his teeth, and Maverick feels something wrench inside his chest at the sight. “I’m down for a session with Vale? I’ve had it booked for months,”  
  
Maverick curses under his breath as he pulls the appointment book towards him and sure enough, under Valentino’s name is Fabio’s name with a 9.30 scribbled in the Italian’s distinctive chicken scratch handwriting.  
  
“Is everything alright Mack?” Fabio asks, his lip caught between his teeth as he surveys the tattoo artist. “Like if he’s running late, I can wait-”  
  
“He’s on honeymoon,” Maverick blurts out. “He’s taken Marc away for the week, I thought he’d cancelled all his appointments-”  
  
“Oh,” Fabio’s smile immediately drops. “He was supposed to finish my arm off today, there’s just a couple of details left on there to do,”  
  
Maverick can’t help but stare at the ink that swirls down Fabio’s arm. It’s beautiful and in classic Valentino style - black and grey, detailed shading - the pin-up style nun takes up most of his bicep, blending into the Notre Dame, the rose and a tiger similar to Maverick’s own curve along the bottom half of Fabio’s arm, ending at his wrist. “You’re running out of room,”  
  
Fabio _laughs_ and the sound is almost magnetic. “I’ve got plenty more skin for him to tattoo,” He stops for a moment. “You should tattoo me,”  
  
“Oh no. No no no,” Maverick says, shaking his head. He watches the blonde man’s face immediately drop at his tone. “I’m not messing with your sleeve, Fabio. Vale would kill me. That’s his artwork,”  
  
It’s an unspoken rule in the world of tattoos. You don’t finish off another artist’s work, only in particular circumstances. Valentino had once tattooed his own name onto Jorge drunk and the Majorcan had flat out refused to let Maverick cover it up with something else. However, it’s not a tattoo that Jorge whips out on a regular basis to showcase Valentino’s talent. Fabio bites at his lip as though he’s thinking.  
  
“Well, maybe you could do a tattoo for me elsewhere?”  
  
Maverick knows that he shouldn’t. He’s always been the more meticulous artist out of the three of them and he doesn’t really do spontaneity - not to mention, having his tattoos next to Valentino’s is something that makes him nervous. “I don’t think so, my first client will be in shortly,”  
  
Fabio leans over the desk and Maverick can only stare at the tiny gap between the younger man’s teeth as he smiles. “Not even a tiny one?”  
  
Maverick stutters. “I don’t know-”  
  
“C’mon Mack,” There’s the nickname that Valentino and Jorge had bestowed on him when he became an apprentice. “It’s just a little one - and I mean, a little one,”  
  
“Okay, what did you have in mind?” Maverick gives in with a light sigh, watching Fabio practically light up. “And you better mean small,”  
  
Thankfully, Fabio does mean a small tattoo. It’s one that Maverick could probably do in his sleep, the type of thing that he practised on pig skin for months before Valentino let him near another human. He glances at the contact paper and back up at the blonde man. “Are you sure about this?”  
  
Fabio nods once, the grin slowly brushing over his lips again. “I’m sure,”  
  
Maverick can feel Fabio’s dark eyes on him as he snaps on a fresh pair of gloves wordlessly and loads up his tattoo machine in preparation. He pulls Fabio’s arm towards him, trying not to flush as their fingers brush up against one another. “Are you sure about this?”  
  
Fabio smiles and Maverick feels his heart flutter at the sight. “Yeah, I’m sure. I trust you,”  
  
Maverick’s hand stills on the tattoo machine. “Maybe you should let Vale do this for you-”  
  
“I don’t want Vale to do it. I want you to do it,”  
  
Maverick lifts his gaze to meet Fabio’s. “He’s going to kill me when he sees this, you know?”  
  
“He won’t,” Fabio shakes his head, the smile still clinging to his lips.  
  
“He will. You’re practically his walking portfolio,” Maverick says as he slowly lowers the machine towards Fabio’s skin. Fabio remains silent as Maverick slowly traces out the first letter, wiping away the excess ink carefully.  
  
“Well, you all have Vale’s work on you right?” Fabio asks after a moment. “He did your lion tattoo for you?”  
  
“Yeah, he did, but all of your work is his. I have some from Jorge and some other artists, and there’s a couple I did myself when I was a bit drunk and just starting out,”  
  
Fabio snorts. “You have to show me those, Mack.”  
  
“If I showed you, I think you’d walk out with this tattoo unfinished-” Maverick says, lifting the machine away for a moment as his dark eyes lock with the younger mans.  
  
“That bad?” Fabio raises an eyebrow.  
  
“Yeah, they’re awful - they’re worse than the tattoo Jorge did of his own name on Valentino’s hip when they were both drunk-”  
  
“I bet Marc was _pissed_ ,”  
  
“He was. Vale went to Sete to get it covered up because Marc wouldn’t have sex with him,”  
  
“Really?” Fabio’s eyes are shining and Maverick bites his lip to try stop himself staring.  
  
“Yeah, I’m glad that they never practise on me when they’re drunk. Jorge has a few embarrassing ones too - he has a VR somewhere but he won’t tell me exactly where it is,”  
  
“Probably on his dick,”  
  
Maverick lets out a low laugh. “I wouldn’t put it past him but he’s all loved up these days. I dread it when Vale comes back from his honeymoon, all they’ll talk about is their amazing husbands,”  
  
Fabio makes a sympathetic noise. “So you don’t have a husband of your own?”  
  
Maverick almost fucks up the tattoo. “W-what?”  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry - I was just curious, it’s okay if you’re not gay-”  
  
“I’m not-” Maverick stutters out, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “Married, I mean- I don’t even have a boyfriend-”  
  
Fabio barely blinks at the admission. “That’s a shame, good looking guy like you should have people falling at your feet,”  
  
Maverick feels his cheeks grow redder. “I- well-I’m really busy with work and-”  
  
Fabio laughs. “I know. Relax, Mack,” _There’s the nickname again._ “I’m just saying an attractive guy like you should be fighting the boys off,”  
  
“They’re all straight guys who want their girlfriend of three months' name on them or some hipster girl who saw one of my watercolour tattoos I did for her friend,” Maverick mutters as he continues the tattoo.  
  
“Girlfriend of three months? Who does that?” Fabio asks, incredulously.  
  
“You’d be surprised,”

* * *

  
Jorge finally saunters into the tattoo shop as Maverick is wiping away the traces of ink that remain on Fabio’s skin. “Morning,” He announces loudly, shaking off his ridiculously expensive leather jacket. “Sorry, I’m late,”  
  
“What was it this time? Your car broke down?” Maverick lifts his gaze from Fabio’s finger to glance at the older man. His hair is more ruffled than usual and Maverick can see the telltale signs of a lovebite on the edge of the Majorcan’s neck.  
  
“No, Dani just wanted sex before work,” Jorge blurts out and Maverick feels his cheeks stain red. “What are you doing to Fabio?”   
  
“Just a small tattoo,”  
  
Jorge moves closer, examining Fabio’s finger in detail. “Is that-?”  
  
Fabio shows off the ink on his finger, the skin around the tattoo already becoming inflamed and red but clearly spelling out the word _Shhh…_ _  
_ _  
_ Maverick can see Jorge’s grin grow at the sight of the tattoo. “You’re not serious. You wanted that on your body?”  
  
“Yeah,” Fabio grins back whilst Maverick ignores Jorge’s stare, trying to focus on wrapping Fabio’s newly tattooed digit up.  
  
“Does Vale know that you’re tattooing him?” Jorge turns his attention towards the younger apprentice and Maverick can feel his piercing green gaze.  
  
“No,” Fabio chirps out. “But I doubt he will mind, right?”  
  
“Sure he won’t,” Jorge keeps his tone light but Maverick knows that once Fabio leaves, he’s in for one hell of a questioning session from the Majorcan. He turns his attention back to the blonde, tucking in the edges of the clingfilm.  
  
“I’d give you the aftercare spiel, but I know you’ve heard it a thousand times before,”  
  
“You’re right,” Fabio smiles widely, admiring his new ink through the clingfilm. “Thanks, Mack. You’re a genius,”  
  
Maverick feels his cheeks burn at the words as Fabio shrugs on his coat, and Jorge’s gaze seems to burn into his back as he watches the younger man disappear through the front door, the bell above the door chiming to signal his departure.  
  
“A genius huh?” Jorge leans against the reception desk, his eyes gleaming with something that Maverick can’t quite place.  
  
“He’s just being friendly,” Maverick murmurs, tidying away the ink pots in his area. He avoids his colleague’s gaze as he pulls off his gloves.  
  
Jorge hums. “I guess. And it’s not like you recreated the Sistine Chapel ceiling on his arm like Vale did-”  
  
“It's the Notre Dame actually,”  
  
Jorge’s grin grows even wider, his eyebrow almost hitting his hairline. “Looks like Mack has got a crush,” He all but sing-songs.  
  
Maverick is about to reply with some choice words about how Jorge went home the other night with a bouquet of twenty six red roses and a box of condoms, but the chime of the bell above the door sounds out, Maverick’s client appearing a little flustered and apologetic about being a few minutes late. He’ll get the Majorcan bastard back later, he decides.  
  


* * *

Unfortunately, Maverick doesn’t get to plan his revenge. Dani drops by at the end of Jorge’s shift, looking more flustered than he usually does. Jorge seems to have some sort of inner-Dani-senses because he immediately throws down the rag he was using to disinfect his cleaning area and goes to curl around his husband.  
  
“Bad day?” 

Maverick doesn’t hear Dani’s response, and he’s thankful for that. He’s not one to encroach on personal conversations and with Dani being a lawyer, there’s even more reason not to listen in. Dani nods against Jorge’s shoulder and Maverick bites his lip, trying not to watch the pair. When he had first met Jorge two years ago, he was surprised to hear that the older man was married. He never seemed the type - but Maverick had finally met the man whose initials were on Jorge’s ring finger, under his wedding ring, and in cursive over his heart (which was apparently a wedding present from Valentino) and he was so different to Jorge. But he brought out the soft, caring side in the Majorcan.  
  
Jorge slowly brushes a hand over Dani’s hair, pressing a light kiss to his husband’s forehead and Maverick’s heart _aches._  
  
“Will you lock up?” Jorge raises his head slightly, his eyes meeting Maverick’s.  
  
Maverick nods once, the ache still deep in his chest as he watches Jorge curl his arm around Dani, pulling him close as they leave. The ache doesn’t leave, even when he gets back to his apartment. He’s halfway through his dinner of instant noodles when his phone rings. He glances down at the screen and sees his best friend’s name flash up on the display.  
  
“What do you want, Aleix?”  
  
“Is that any way to talk to your best friend, Macky?” The Spaniard teases. “I haven’t seen you for ages,”  
  
“Sorry, Vale’s on honeymoon so Jorge and I are snowed under at work,”  
  
Aleix hums under his breath. “So there’s no way you can fit your best friend ever for a quick tattoo?”  
  
“No chance until next week, mate. I even had to do a tattoo for Fabio today-”  
  
“Wait. Is this Fabio, is in the _hot_ Fabio?”  
  
Maverick curses himself for telling Aleix about him. He knows it’s stupid to have a crush on a client, and it’s even worse when it’s not his own client. “I know, I know, it’s stupid-”  
  
“What did you tattoo on him?”  
  
Maverick murmurs the answer under his breath, hoping that Aleix doesn’t quite catch what he said, but it’s futile. Aleix roars with laughter for a good two minutes, and Maverick resists the urge to hang up. He ends up recounting the entire story for Aleix who listens carefully for a moment before he inevitably ribs on the younger man.  
  
“So, you won’t do a little tattoo for your best friend, but you’ll happily tattoo a stupid word on your crushes finger huh?”  
  
Maverick feels his cheeks flush and he’s thankful that Aleix can’t see him. “He’s not a crush,”  
  
Aleix snorts, murmuring something that sounds like bullshit. “He literally called you a genius for writing a word on him. I don’t know why you don’t ask him out,”  
  
And this time, Maverick does hang up.  
  


* * *

Maverick doesn’t see Fabio for another week and he’s thankful. With Valentino still away on holiday - and god, the photos get more and more like soft porn - he and Jorge are snowed under with clients and Maverick feels like he is going to scream if he has to do one more needlepoint hipster tattoo on someone’s ankle. He breathes a sigh of relief when he walks into the shop on Monday morning and sees Valentino sat at the desk, tracing a design for a client. Maverick notes that he is enviously tanned, and has a certain glow that he’s sure is post-coital.  
  
“Miss me?” Valentino says with a wide grin.  
  
“I think Jorge missed you more,” Maverick replies. “He’s actually had to run this place whilst you were gone,”  
  
“Shame the bastard's got the day off today. Maybe I should have gone on my honeymoon for longer? Marc didn’t want me to leave the bed this morning-”  
  
Thankfully, the door chimes before Valentino can share anymore intimate details about his sex life with Marc. Maverick is thankful for whoever it is, anything to be spared what is sure will be a story of what noises Marc made in bed and how much of an animal he is, only to look up into Fabio’s dark brown eyes.  
  
“Hello,” Fabio smiles and Maverick can feel his cheeks heat up at the sight. His hair is mussed again as though he’s just rolled out of bed, and he’s wearing a soft looking grey hoodie.  
  
“Sorry about your appointment, Fabio,” Valentino thankfully doesn’t notice his protege’s red cheeks. “I thought I’d got Jorge to cancel them all,”  
  
“It’s okay, Maverick was kind enough to satisfy my tattoo craving,” Fabio blurts out and Fabio feels Valentino’s blue eyes bare into him.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Not your work,” Maverick cuts in, worrying his lip. “I didn’t touch his sleeve,”  
  
“So what did you do?” Valentino begins, only for Fabio to all but thrust his finger into the older man’s face, showing off the half-healed tattoo. Maverick watches his eyebrow raise at the sight of the tattoo. “You really asked for that?”  
  
Fabio smiles. “Of course, he didn’t hold me down and tattoo me,”  
  
Maverick can feel his face heat up at the blonde’s words as Valentino carefully glances over his work. It’s not the most technical tattoo that Maverick has ever done, but it’s exactly what Fabio wanted, executed in the correct fashion. “I won’t revoke your licence just yet, Viñales,” Valentino murmurs. “But if you tattoo your work on one of my clients again, I might do,”  
  
Maverick mutters out an apology, his cheeks pink as he busies himself cleaning up the balled up pieces of contact paper that litter the front desk. Valentino grins at him, before he leads Fabio over to his work area, holding out the finished design that will blend into the pin up nun and the Notre Dame, just above Fabio’s elbow. Maverick is so focused on their conversation, he doesn’t realise that the bell above the door has sounded out -  
  
“Macky!” A familiar voice cuts through their conversation, even over the rap music that Maverick is allowed to play in the background, a welcome change from Jorge putting Californication on repeat. He glances up to see Aleix standing in front of him, wearing a wide grin and holding a piece of paper.  
  
“Are you free?” Aleix beams. “Please say yes,”  
  
Maverick glances over at Valentino who is pulling on his gloves. The older man gives him an imperceptible nod as though to give permission and Maverick relents, sighing. “Okay, what do you have in mind?”  
  
He’s not expecting anything elaborate - after all, the majority of Aleix’s tattoo are simple and clean lines, all black and white with not much detail, but even this one has him raising an eyebrow. _Believe in yourself_ is printed out on the paper in blocky font, and Maverick wonders when his best friend became one of the hipster slash self help gurus he has been tattooing all week. He can hear the whir of Valentino’s tattoo machine in the background, louder than usual but Aleix has never had an indoor voice. 

“In English?” He asks, glancing at the paper.  
  
Aleix nods, pointing to his right hand side, just above his ribcage. “I want it here,”  
  
“It’s gonna hurt there,” Maverick says with a smile. “I mean, you bitched me out with your last one and it was tiny,”  
  
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re not gentle enough-”  
  
“Mack, quit flirting with your boyfriend and let him have his hipster tattoo already,” Valentino pipes up.  
  
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Maverick fires back.  
  
“Hey, what’s wrong with me? I’m hot! I could be your boyfriend!” Aleix cuts in, grinning widely and Maverick literally wants to throttle him.  
  
He bundles the taller man over to his work area, hoping that he’s not going to make too much of a fuss. But it all goes out of the window as Aleix glances over at Fabio, who is leaning back in the chair looking far too relaxed. Maverick can see the cogs turning inside his best friend’s head to the sight of the blonde man - he’s told Aleix enough about what Fabio looks like, down to the detailed tattoo sleeve. He watches Aleix’s eyes flicker down to his finger, where the new tattoo he had done, and meets Maverick’s eyes, smirking.  
  
He’s about to open his mouth when Maverick cuts in. “Shirt off. And you need to lean over the chair so I can do it properly,”  
  
“I love it when you tell me what to do,” Aleix all but purrs as he pulls off his shirt and throws it to one side. 

Maverick tries to ignore Fabio and Valentino’s stares as he loads up his tattoo machine.  
  
As expected, Aleix begins to bitch about five seconds into the process, calling Maverick every name under the sun. Maverick presses on, concentrating only on his hand, steady as ever as he slowly draws the design into Aleix’s skin. Maverick pauses for a moment after the first word, his eyes flickering over to where Valentino is bent over Fabio’s arm, shading some detail into the pale skin. Fabio’s eyes are closed and he looks relaxed, as though he’s asleep - though Maverick is certain he isn’t between the sounds of the machine buzzing, Aleix’s chatter and the music still blaring out on the radio. Thankfully, Aleix’s eyes are also closed, his teeth clenched in pain as his fingers cling to the leather of the chair so Maverick is spared another flirty comment.  
  
“God, how much longer?” Aleix murmurs out after Maverick has finished the word _in_. 

"Almost finished,” Maverick says quietly, and takes great pleasure in the flash of pain that brushes over Aleix’s face as he lowers his needle back to his best friend’s skin. Inking on the final word takes hardly any time, and Maverick hears the breath that Aleix was holding in as he lifts his machine away.  
  
“All done,” He announces, and the words are barely out of his mouth before Aleix is out of the chair, his eyes on the new tattooed skin.  
  
“It’s perfect,” Aleix says, grinning widely as he examines the tattoo carefully.  
  
“Thanks, I try,” Maverick replies, a small smile of his own breaking over his face.  
  
He has to fight to get the new tattoo all wrapped up, what with Aleix wanting to show it off on social media. But the older Spaniard eventually relents, allowing Maverick to place the clingfilm over the top of the sensitive skin. He slips his shirt back on with a wince, before he shrugs on his jacket and takes out his wallet.  
  
“I’d give you the tattoo aftercare advice but you never listen to me,”  
  
“That’s true. I gotta go to work, but thanks, Macky. You’re a _genius_ ,” Aleix announces with a wide smile and before Maverick can reply, Aleix is gone, the bell tinkles above the door. 

* * *

  
  
By the time Valentino has finished the work on Fabio’s sleeve, Maverick has finished two smaller pieces and managed to head to the Starbucks down the street to pick up coffee for himself and Valentino. He even grabs Fabio a bottle of overpriced Coke just to keep his sugar levels up, which is accepted with a wide smile by the younger man and a questioning eyebrow by Valentino who wisely chooses to sip on his macchiato silently.  
  
Valentino finally sits back in his chair, groaning at the pain in his lower back as he deposits his machine onto the table in his work station. “Think we’re all done,”  
  
Maverick flickers his eyes up away from the half sleeve he’s working on for a moment as Fabio climbs out of the chair and admires his new ink, twisting his arm ever so slightly to glance at it. Maverick meets Valentino’s gaze and ducks back down on focus on his own work with pink cheeks. He tries to zone out the rest of the conversation, the rustle of Fabio shrugging on his hoodie over the top of the cling film that Valentino has carefully wrapped around his arm, of Fabio handing over his card to pay, still gushing about the tattoo. Maverick sighs heavily as he hears the bell ring, but is drawn back into the buzz of his tattoo machine.  
  
He’s still thinking about Fabio when Valentino flips the sign on the door from open to closed, and they begin cleaning the shop up ready for the next day when Valentino’s phone rings.  
  
“Ciao,” He reels off his usual greeting, but he grows silent at the person on the other end. Maverick can only watch as his face grows white. “Are you okay?”  
  
A pause. Valentino fiddles with his wedding ring, his lip caught between his teeth.  
  
“Right, right, I’ll be right there, don’t worry,” He murmurs out, moving towards the rack to grab his coat. “I’ll be like five minutes,”  
  
He ends the call.  
  
“Everything alright?” Maverick asks tentatively. There’s few people that Valentino worries over - Marc, Luca, his mother, maybe Jorge at a push -  
  
“I have to go, Marc’s fallen off his bike-” He worries his lip. “He’s okay, but I need to go collect him-”  
  
“It’s okay,” Maverick cuts him off. “You go, I’ll lock up. Just text me and let me know when you collect Marc okay?”  
  
Valentino nods. “Thank you,” He says softly, his hand lightly slapping Maverick’s shoulder. “I appreciate it,”  
  


* * *

  
Maverick ends up putting on his own Spotify playlist as he finishes cleaning up the shop, humming to himself as he mops the floor. He’s still not heard from Valentino yet, but he knows that the Italian probably is making sure that Marc is okay before he bothers to contact anyone. A faint knock at the door cuts through his music and he stops, glancing up to see Fabio standing in the doorway. Fabio smiles at him, waving slightly and pointing but his words are masked by the sound of J Balvin.  
  
“We’re closed. What are you doing here?” Maverick asks as he unlocks the door. Fabio is shivering slightly - it’s started to rain and he’s still dressed in the thin grey hoodie that he had been wearing earlier.  
  
“Sorry, I left my wallet here,” Fabio murmurs out. “And then my bike broke down-”  
  
Maverick worries his lip. He knows that he should hand Fabio his wallet and close the door behind him, but he can’t. The younger man looks half frozen, his lips are practically blue.  
  
“Come in,” Maverick says, stepping to the side. “After I’ve finished closing up here, I can take you home in my car,”  
  
Fabio steps into the shop with a soft grin. “Thanks, Mack,”  
  
Maverick tries not to melt at the way that Fabio says his nickname, trying to focus on completing the last part of the floor that needs mopping.  
  
“I’m sorry about today,” Fabio’s voice cuts through the music.  
  
Maverick stiffens. “What do you mean?”  
  
Fabio catches his lip between his teeth. “I didn’t mean to make Vale mad at you,”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Maverick says. “He’s a grumpy bastard at the best of times-” He stops. “But he’s the best artist out there,”  
  
Fabio smiles. “Well, I’m not sure about that. I saw some of your work today, and that anchor you did was pretty amazing,”  
  
Maverick can feel the blush stain his cheeks. “Well, I’m not as good as Vale and Jorge-”  
  
“You do amazing work, you shouldn’t put yourself down. I wanted to ask you if you would do another piece for me - one on the back of my neck so it’s not interfering with Vale’s work,”

“I don’t know-”  
  
“Oh, c’mon. I really want a piece from you on me. I’m not just Vale’s portfolio, you know,”  
  
“I’ll think about it,” Maverick says softly.  
  
Silence grows over the two men for a moment, the music growing louder into a crescendo. 

“Was that other guy really your boyfriend?” Fabio’s voice is soft, but it’s audible.  
  
Maverick freezes, the mop sticking to the floor. “Who? Aleix? No, no, he’s straight and married and-”  
  
“Oh, that’s good,” Fabio murmurs, worrying his lip. “I mean, that he’s married and happy, not that he’s your boyfriend-”  
  
“Why are you so interested?”  
  
Fabio moves closer, tracking over the floor that Maverick has just mopped - but the Spaniard’s only focus is on the younger man’s dark eyes. “I think you know why,”  
  
“I don’t know-”  
  
“I like you,” Fabio’s voice is quiet and soft. “Last time I came in, I wanted to ask you out but I chickened out at the last minute and-”  
  
Maverick feels as though the breath has left his lungs, rendered silent by Fabio’s words as he glances up into dark brown eyes. He can see the tiny freckles that dance across pale cheeks, the tiny trail of rainwater from his hair that has run down the side of his face- but none of that matters as he leans in, his lips connecting with Fabio’s. The kiss is chaste and soft, with their lips barely brushing against one another for more than a few seconds before Maverick draws back, an exhale slowly pushing from between his lips. But Fabio smiles softly as he closes the gap, leaning in for another kiss - this time, it’s still soft but it’s almost tender with Fabio’s hands slowly cupping Maverick’s face as their lips move against each other. Maverick finds his hands fisting into the front of Fabio’s hoodie, not caring if it’s wet.  
  
He lets out a whine as Fabio’s hands slowly move up to twist into his hair, and Fabio seizes the opportunity to slide his tongue against the crease of Maverick’s lips. Maverick opens his mouth slightly and savours the taste of the younger man, of mint presumably from gum, and something that is intrinsically _Fabio_ . Their tongues dance against one another, slowly, the pair of them taking their time to just stay in the moment, the only sound is that of their mouths moving against each other and the music still playing in the background.  
  
Until Maverick’s phone pings in his pocket.  
  
They slowly pull away from one another, still staring at one another with smiles playing along their swollen lips. “You should answer that,” Fabio says, his voice slightly hoarse.  
  
“It’s probably Vale,” Maverick murmurs thickly. “He can wait,”  
  
Fabio _beams_ as their fingers tangle together. “So about that boyfriend situation-”  
  
“I’ll think about it,” Maverick’s tone is teasing.  
  
Fabio cocks his head slightly. “Maybe you need a little more persuasion,” He says grinning widely as he captures Maverick’s lips once more.  
  


* * *

  
“So did your stupid plan work?” Jorge asks, his phone clutched to his ear as he lies in bed next to Dani. The older man is engrossed in one of his law files, his glasses perched on the end of his nose but he still allows Jorge to gently trace patterns into his arm, as though he’s tattooing him.  
  
“Of course it did,” Valentino replies, almost smugly. “All I did was conveniently forget to hand the kid’s credit card back to him, I was trying to think of an excuse to leave when Marc fell off his bike-”  
  
“Is he okay?”  
  
“He’s fine,” Valentino says, glancing at his husband who is sleeping soundly against his chest. His hand moves to slowly brush the stray curl from Marc’s forehead. “A little battered and bruised but he’ll live. He still wanted sex when he got home so-”  
  
“Hanging up now,” Jorge replies, deadpan.  
  
Jorge hangs up, shaking his head as he cuddles back against Dani. The smaller man turns his head slightly, his dark eyes landing on Jorge. “What was all that about?”  
  
“I’ll tell you later,” Jorge says as he leans in to pull Dani’s glasses away. “But first-”


End file.
